Pit Closure as a Tarantino Short

after Ian McMillan
The Suit who pulled the trigger left
a card between the victim’s fingers,
printed white on red.
Business Closed was all it said.
He wiped his bloodless hands
down on his shirt for show,
as if someone still watched him
as he turned to go. And as he did,
he met the dead man’s stare
and noticed how the bullet hole
between those two dark eyes
made up a black ellipsis; then he swore
he heard the dead man’s voice
above the heartbeat of the clock:
Nothing’s finished, only given up.
Before he left, he checked the lock.

from Division Street (Chatto & Windus, 2013), © Helen Mort 2013, used by permission of the author.

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